


Lazy Sunday

by eclipse_incarnate



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclipse_incarnate/pseuds/eclipse_incarnate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn was just really into taking pictures with his phone while Niall just wanted a lazy Sunday. If it wasn't to be a lazy Sunday, Niall had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Got a bit inspired from that selfie of Zayn captioned "Lazy Sunday" and Niall's tweet about eating and chilling. Yeah...

Sun seeped through the narrow slits between the curtains, one particular one hit Niall on the eyes, blinding him awake from his restless state. His tongue felt dry and rough, his lips parched. He wasn’t expecting to fall asleep, but the warmth of another living body, and the soft but tender muscles under him was just incredibly comforting he couldn’t possibly afford not to doze off. His head was resting on a shoulder, and from the corner of his eye, he could notice the slightly thick scruff of another boy.

He tilted his head just to see Zayn holding his phone up in the air, almost directly to his face. He picked up light sound effects emitting from the device, clicking noises filling his ears.

“Are you taking selfies? Seriously?” Niall questioned, chuckling lightly, his throat vibrating Zayn’s skin. Zayn hummed in response, as if dismissing Niall’s presence, too preoccupied with his phone.

There was an awkward silence: Niall wanted to say something, feeling a bit hurt about Zayn’s attention on capturing his face rather than on him, although Niall couldn’t blame him. He always found Zayn fairly vain about his face, but he was just too modest to admit it, always producing a tiny blush on his dark skin if mentioned in front of him. Niall had always complimented him, though. _Beautiful faces should always be left with beautiful words_. Even on stage he had commented on his high cheekbones and long eyelashes (even Harry did it, too) and the beauty that was his voice—always as smooth as honey—that could reach the highest of notes.

But on these times, sometimes he wished he hadn’t had such a pretty—no _beautiful_ , he reminded himself—boyfriend. The inner vanity of the boy was protruding like a flower blooming on springtime, unable to stop because of the perfect timing and setting: enough light from the lampshade by the side of the sofa, the pleasing temperature, the calmness of the whole place.

“Zayn, please can we just cuddle?” Niall whined, his blond head stroking his tattooed arm. He just wanted a lazy Sunday.

“We already are.” Zayn replied indifferently, his whiskey-colored eyes not leaving the screen, though it was changing expressions as well as the rest of his face.

“I said ‘ _we_ ’ meaning both of us. Zayn, come on now.” Niall begged, his blue eyes pleading. He held Zayn’s arm tighter, wanting his attention, but he still wouldn’t budge. _How many can a man take a selfie?_

Suddenly, his mind bore an idea, as if someone had burrowed this information inside his head and he just now dug it out. His heart racing, he spoke, minimizing any contained annoyance in his voice to sound convincingly okay. “Fine, then.”

He unclasped his arms around Zayn and leaned back for a moment, before bending toward him again, near his ear, one hand on his shoulder, his intentions changed.

He bit on Zayn’s earlobe, his teeth fastened on the soft skin, gently gnawing it with pleasure. His eyes were half-lidded as he stare at the camera, seeing his face getting taken with Zayn’s own, the other boy’s lips parted in surprise. “Niall, what are you—?”

Niall hushed him. “Shh, shh, shh. Zayn, just relax. Yeah?” Niall slowly went down his neck, light kisses leaving trails, and then sensually sucking his skin. He heard Zayn make a sound, a confined mewl. Another snap filled Niall’s ears, making him smirk. He then closed his eyes, letting his eyelids flutter close as he continued to leave a mark on his dark skin.

He moved his free hand downward, unhurried and teasing, pressing on his ribs and waist on the way. Niall then started caressing Zayn’s cotton-clad thighs, his hand languidly pressing hard, massaging it with a mission, his lips still on the other’s neck. He glided his pale hand a few inches away and to the boy’s cock, feeling his semi-hard through the layers of fabric.

“Niall.” Zayn breathed, his phone still on his hand, although he was still clinging to it.

Niall smirked as he left multiple bites, lovingly scarlet on his caramel-colored skin, making himself proud. “What do you want, Zayn?” He asked, his voice low and a bit husky.

“I want—“

“Now,” he interrupted Zayn. “How come that you want something from me, expecting me to comply, when I, your romantic interest, wanted something from _you_ , and didn’t give it to me.” Niall whispered to Zayn, his hand sat motionless on his crotch. Niall knew he sounded like an evil villain from a book, one full of wisdom and experience in life, but it worked here. He also knew how Zayn loved those kind of sentences, how it added depth and drama on the scene. Although, it just added that extra sexual tension, because Zayn kind of stiffened, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I want _you_ ,” he finally answered. “’Want you to continue whatever you were doing.”

“Good answer.” Niall said, his voice soft. He eventually went down under him, his eyes almost predatory, like a lioness watching a helpless gazelle. His lips were curled into a small pout, provocatively taunting.

Niall unbuttoned the boy’s trousers, pulling it down below his knees, doing the same to his black boxers. He hovered his lips on Zayn’s cock, mocking him with mouth gestures and seductive stares, smelling the salty scent around the area. Out of the blue, Niall heard the familiar click of a camera, realizing Zayn snapping a photo of him, his face near his dick.

“Is that okay?” Zayn asked, voice sincere, breath still, as if ice encased it inside his throat. Niall nodded. He could always delete it if he wished to.

“Zayn breathe. Please.” Niall told him, and before Zayn could let out all the air his lungs held, he attached his lips around the head of his cock, swiping his tongue as he did so.

He heard Zayn hiss. Niall looked up, his blue eyes staring at him with such intensity. His hand was on the boy’s bony pelvis, his other hand roaming through his side, feeling the warmth he dearly wanted not so long ago. He sank deeper, his lips sliding down the flesh, his eyes never leaving Zayn’s own. He chuckled, feeling his lips vibrate around Zayn’s dick, and continued on.

Niall saw Zayn took another shot of him with his phone, his mouth hollowed around his cock, lips probably pinker than usual. He brought one of his fingers on his chin still grasping his phone, making Niall’s lips separate off his dick, and then lifting them up as Zayn angled closer, catching him with heated lips, biting his bottom lip, too.

“You’re so good at this. I don’t know how you’ll get better.” And at that, Niall smirked again, cocky and self-assured, as if Zayn challenged him into a dare. _He did._

“Oh,” Niall got back down again, his chin almost touching the pink head of Zayn’s cock. “I plan to.”

Niall had never done this. _Never._ His gag reflex was bad as his once-bad knee, and like his knee, he planned to make it better. Slowly and unsure, Niall attached his lips on his boyfriend’s dick, descending lower and lower, ignoring the slight discomfort on his throat, until his lips hit the base. He stared at Zayn, his face completely stunned as Niall caught sight of Zayn’s thumb pressed the camera button.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and so with a coughing fit, he disconnected his lips off Zayn’s wet cock. He recovered quickly, finding himself reeling back again, this time just circling his mouth and tongue around the area he could take, sending pleasurable shocks to Zayn as he moaned while sucking him off.

“Niall, I—“ Niall knew what he meant, but he didn’t dare push away, instead he let his eyelids fall, moaning and engulfing his lips around the boy’s cock. “Fuck,” Zayn said as he felt a hot spurt hit the back of his throat, tasting blandly salty and something else.

“Shit, Ni. That was so good. Best.” Zayn commented, and Niall smiled, his lips feeling swollen from the blowjob he gave his boyfriend.

“If this was what it takes you to give me a blowjob on the spot, I’ll ignore you every day.” Niall glared at him, eyes menacing. “Just kidding! Geez, Niall. But seriously that was so good. Thought this will be a lazy Sunday but nah.” Zayn said, smiling, and then kissed him, gentle and chaste.

“It could still be a lazy Sunday.” Niall said, wiping his mouth as Zayn fastened his jeans back on, the feeling of the lazy Sunday coming back to him, just wanting to stay inside the hotel, cuddling and feeling each other’s warmth.

“Now,” Niall abruptly added, laughter building up inside him. “Let me delete those pictures you took of me. I don’t want them getting leaked, you careless bastard.”

“Oh, come on now. That video wasn’t my fault!”

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't proofread this - so sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
